In Death There Can Be Life
by OnlyALittleMad
Summary: A plane crash kills the Buckets leaving Willy on his own. Warning: Character Death
1. Chapter 1

He just didn't understand. The pain, the sorrow. Well, actually, I don't think he understood anything at all. It was always about the candy, and as much as he denies it, what I am trying to tell you is the truth. Willy Wonka just does not care for people.

_I saw the signs, as I got older. Sure, Will is nice to me, but it's people beyond that that I am worried about. Will has a fear of talking to others, as if merely a handshake gives him a horrid disease. What I want to tell my beloved mentor is that it is ok to be shy. _

_Ha! Shyness! Like I will admit ever to him that that is what I believe him to be. He has had his bad moments in the past. That one is for sure, but he can't just keep hiding all his life. Will has to get out there._

_But I, won't be the one to help. Not now. Not ever. Not after what he has put me through. _

The impact of the news that Charlie Bucket's family had died in a plane crash, hit like a bullet. Willy had not been in the plane crash, but in his mind he could see the flames. No, not see the flames. He could feel the flames as they ran like an Olympic runner across the inside of the plush purple carpeting of the first class cabin.

It didn't matter that his plane had been destroyed. Never mind the millions it took to build, all that mattered was Charlie.

After being sure that he died, Will spent days in Charlie's room, looking at all the memories. The Wonka candy wrappers on the walls, the infamous golden ticket over his bed. Most of those things didn't matter. All, except for a diary.

Some people may think that boys don't write in diaries. It may seem like a girly thing to do, writing out your feelings. But there it was, written in slanted handwriting on every page. Every thought, every word Will had ever mentioned to Charlie was rewritten in the book.

Will believed in privacy. However, nothing could stop him from devouring every page of Charlie's book.

**This is just a small clip of a new story I'll be writing. Hope you like it!**


	2. Chapter 2

September 15, 2005

It feels odd to be going back to school. When you're alone in a chocolate factory for an entire four months with nothing but a very eccentric candy man to keep you company you tend to lose yourself in the magic. But I guess I am glad to be getting used to the place like this. One day I will take over. One day the factory will belong to me. I just don't know how I feel about it. Continuing a legend's work can be a difficult task.

A silent tear rolled down Willy's cheek and fell down onto the page. The fact that Charlie had died before ever taking on the job on his own, sent waves of grief through his body. Grief that he didn't even know he had inside him. Wasn't he, the one who was supposed to die first, even though he dreaded it? Willy's hands shook slightly as he turned to the back of the book at the final entry.

July 16, 2006

_Willy, no shocker in my mind, has his own plane. And because of it being summer time, he has invited my whole family on it. But it's just for my family and me because well, someone has to take care of the factory._

Willy shut the book at this point and threw it across the room. He stared at Charlie's former sleeping quarters. It felt horrible to think that his body rested on a hospital bed. Even though he wasn't there, Willy could see the hospital workers slowly pulling the white sheet over his small head.

The candy man grit his teeth. There was no way that staying in this room would help matters. He had to get rid of it. All of it.

It all started without thought. As if an invisible person was slowly dragging him to the bed sheet, causing him to rip it apart. Just like that, the bed seemed to be ripped to shreds, along with every memory of Charlie that lay inside it.

Willy sat on the floor, his breathing slightly laboured after pulling the bed apart. His eyes cast around the room until he found it. The candy wrappers on the wall. Ripping them all apart was done less aggressively. In fact, by time he was finished, the act had reduced him to tears. All that was left was the golden ticket. Willy plucked it off the wall. However, something prevented him from tearing this apart. It glinted at him, almost like a smile, daring him to try and tear it apart.

Willy sighed and pocketed the ticket. The diary still lay on the floor.

But did he want to continue reading it?


End file.
